Barak Obama’s Birthday. 2021

by pauland1707

A grey and depressing bunker, just east of Moscow and Vladimir is on a phone circa 1956.

VP: Happy Birthday Mr President Comrade. I know it’s late but what is there to worry about? I’m drinking Vodka in your honour. Cheers, I think you say.

Inaudible chatter from the telephone.

VP: What does it matter if I get arse-holed, Mr President Comrade? I get drunk, I fall over, I wake up with a mouth like a bear’s crevice. Nobody can tell me what to do in Russia because I am the man.

Inaudible chatter from the telephone.

VP: So what if Russia doesn’t exist, I don’t care because I am still the man. I refuse to wear a shirt. I will wear what I choose, Mr President Comrade. As for you, Mr President Comrade, you are the big fool because you call yourself the President of the United States of America. That is a big joke, there is no United States of America.

Inaudible shouting from the telephone.

VP: I can twist you right around my little finger, Mr President Comrade. Or I could if I had not eaten them. All I have is this imperialist telephone with your number on speed-dial. It is glued to my head. I hate you, you bastard. I do not care for your stupid imperialist birthday.

Inaudible laughter from the telephone.

VP: But I have vodka, all you have Mr President Comrade Birthday Boy is spam. Spam from the glorious Republic of Russia. I’ll get pissed whilst you enjoy your tasty Russian Spam, Mr President Comrade.

Inaudible click from the telephone.

VP: I care not if you hang up, you imperialist pig. Enjoy your Spam. Oh those bankrupt Britons and their badger corpses.